Saturday, February 11, 2012
My Problems with Alcohol: Revolving Door
My respect for my dad began depreciating at a fast pace. I was not able to look at this man and acknowledge him as my father. With the shifting in our relationship, and with everything that has happened thus far, a rebellious spirit was born. I saw no real good in doing the right things and I honestly didn't believe anyone cared. Grant it, by the stereotypical rebellious type, some would still consider me to be a good kid. I didn't drink, do drugs, have sex, grades began declining but they were pretty decent. The worst part about me was that I had a bad attitude.
My father drank a lot of alcohol. There were times when I would witness him stumbling around the house making his way straight towards the recliner to pass out. It pained me to see him this way. I remember a time being curious about his alcohol and finding myself at the cabinet filled with different kinds of liquor, looking through the bottles. I recall asking my dad about this particular bottle that had a worm on the bottom and him coaxing me to try some. "No. I don't want any of that." "Go ahead, try it" I wasn't interested in it; just wondered what the worm was all about. I think, perhaps, I witnessed what alcohol did to my mother and father that the thought of drinking it scared me, although, I was still very curious about it.
I was a gutsy teenager. I managed to convince a friend over 21 to give me 2 forms of identification so that I can apply for an ID card - her information and my picture. I didn't do this once, but twice! Since I could not seem to fit in at school, I thought maybe older people would take interest in me. I found this out quickly when military men used to hit on me. What I found strange was, school kids thought I was ugly and older men found me attractive. With my fake ID, I headed to the nightclubs. While most kids with a fake ID would have used it to buy alcohol, I just wanted to go out dancing! I would come home and hide my ID card in my diary. Guess who found it? My father. Oddly, I could keep it as long as I would go and buy him beer and cigarettes, whenever he wanted.
The drinking got worse. Alcohol just permeated from his pores; I could smell him throughout the house. Between that and the chain smoking, I needed fresh air! I would find ways to leave the house. There were times when I told my father I was sleeping over at a friends house, when really, I was with an older man - older meaning like 19 yrs old up to the age of 22. I know what you're thinking, but believe it or not, I made a vow to save myself for marriage. I slept over at these guy's homes I was dating to have companionship and to get away from my father. Because they were older and expected sex, I eventually got dumped because I wouldn't put out. When I think about [now] how old I was and how old these men were, I get sick to my stomach. But when I tell you what led me to do such things, you might understand it more...